


What Comes Is Better

by Argyle



Category: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (2012), Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter - Seth Grahame-Smith
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argyle/pseuds/Argyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abe wonders what it would mean to be truly sated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Comes Is Better

Abe has long held a reverence for stillness. While just a boy, he discovered that the best time to read, to write in his diary, was when his family was out of the cabin working here and there on their acreage; or when they slept. A bright flame from a good candle was a fine companion. On a still night, when the wind didn't bother the ramshackle roof and the scratch of his quill against paper was the only sound to be noticed—well, such things sufficed to fill him crown to toe with a tingling pleasure akin to ecstasy.

And stillness, now: Henry is asleep in their bed, cheeks almost ruddy from the blood he's taken this evening, brow unvexed, mouth curved into a half-smile. His body looks deceptively fragile between the rich mounds of eiderdown. He always dozes after he feeds. Languid, satisfied, like a cat with a bellyful of cream who dotes on Abe with cozy affection to match— Or nearly always, for there are times when the same act of feeding leaves Abe punchy and fierce, when he cannot wrestle his energy into submission and so he provokes Henry into an argument or sex; or both.

So too there are times when Abe joins Henry in sleep. It doesn't come to him easily. It hasn't since his death. To calm himself, he reads by the candlelight his sensitive vision doesn't require; and he listens to the occasional in-out of breath Henry doesn't need to take. In stillness, the shame of their existence seems removed. Abe wonders what it would mean to be truly sated. To grow happy by Henry's side, or to unabashedly enjoy the extravagancies Henry arranges to ensure their comfort. In such fleeting, mad notions, they are not men. But nor are they monsters.


End file.
